Exactly half the forty-man Spring Training roster has never dirtied their cleats in a Mariner big-league uniform. Here’s a list of every guy looking to make his future with your Seattle Mariners this year. Even some of our twenty returnees will have you (and their teammates) scratching your head going, “wait, who?” Continue reading “Springtime Mariners nametags”
Just decided to dink around a little bit here. My man Chuck Wendig, a supreme writer and blogger and e-mentor, does a Flash Fiction Challenge every Friday. I rarely take part. This week was intriguing, though. Pick a three-word title from a list of his readers’ suggestions. My suggestion didn’t make his list, which didn’t piss me off. I chose the closest one to it. And I included my title in the text. Your challenge is to find it. Good luck.
There is such blindness that goes along with sexual abuse, and that’s one of a million enabling factors. So this thousand-word essay attacks just one of those blind spots. Trust me, it’s fiction. But it addresses a theme that’s rife in both Diamonds and Dirtand the upcoming sequel Tenth Inning.
For those books, I still need a publisher. But for now, here’s that essay…
Not today, Satan
Son of a bitch. Another mob. These people are relentless. They need pitchforks, torches, buckets of tar. I’ll be your metaphorical Frankenstein again today, day after day. Someday you’ll go away.
They weren’t the first thing we saw. The first thing was a grocery cart, packed with stuff. And a figure hunched alone on a stool, wrapped in layers. And the cardboard sign that turns so many people away.
“Would you give me $5 or a blanket?” is all it said. But the images swirled, angry faces, righteous people. How often has every one of us claimed there shouldn’t be any begging, there’s plenty of help available, dammit there’s free food everywhere you look and what sucker would give these beggars any money when they just buy booze or go off to the casino.
And I took it that way. Just to be clear about that part. In fact we got a good laugh about it.
But the joking came after a lecture to a packed room full of writers about childhood trauma’s effect on our adult creative abilities. His premise, based on research, was that writing and other artistic pursuits help to maintain sanity for adults who experienced trauma as children. Continue reading “The shrink who said I’d never write”
What kind of person gets elected to do their people’s business in the legislature, then spends their first days in office trumpeting about keeping their wives and daughters safe from perverts in a bathroom because after all, penises and vaginas and whatnot? Seriously this is happening.
Truly, how are these people so fixated on where people pee? Why is this so important to them and what ogres are they chasing? We have schools in this state that are under court mandate to clean up their act. We have roads, bridges, ferries that need attention. Continue reading “Who are these guys?”
photo: Sports Illustrated flag and fortune: author
Last week I had dinner with an old friend. We ate upscale Chinese with a couple craft beers to wash it down. It was good. We’d hardly seen each other since high school.
We met in seventh grade. It was 1968, when Americans woke up every morning pissed off. Racism, patriotism, Vietnam, drugs, flag burning, police brutality, women’s lib, air pollution. Pick the issue and someone started screaming insults.
Munenori Kawasaki is remembered by Mariner fans as the bouncy Tigger® of their 2012 infield, a grin super-glued to his face saying how lucky he felt standing there, spikes caked at last with Major League dirt.
Who cares if he hit .192 in only 104 at-bats, appearing in less than half the Mariners’ games? That smile stayed on his face on the bench, lighting up the dugout. TV cameras loved the guy, check him out, what a great influence on his teammates, slapping backs, cheering on every pitch, just happy to be there. Continue reading “A Monkey Never Cramps”